Chapter 85: The Bioluminescent Bluff

The New World ocean was surprisingly calm, a stark contrast to the apocalyptic storm we had flown through just a few days prior.

The Titan’s Glory cut smoothly through the dark waters, the Sky-Rift Roc resting in its dormant jade form while the Adam Wood hull did the heavy lifting.

We were gathered on the main deck, the global panic from the morning’s newspaper still fresh in the air.

Law stood near the helm, his Triple Log Pose held up to the sunlight.

The middle needle was spinning violently, completely erratic the exact signature of an island completely hidden from standard navigation grids.

“The magnetic pull is stabilizing,” Law announced, looking over his shoulder.

“I’ve locked onto Punk Hazard’s signature.

If we drop the camouflage and go full speed, we can breach their perimeter by tomorrow night.

But be ready.

With Kaido bleeding on the front page, Doflamingo will have the island locked down tighter than Impel Down.”

“Let’s drop the anchor, for now” I said, leaning against the railing.

Law paused, lowering the compass.

He looked at me, a sharp frown creasing his face.

“Drop the anchor?

Victor, we have the momentum.

Doflamingo is terrified.

If we hit the SAD factory right now, we permanently sever his ties to Kaido.”

“Exactly,” I replied, pushing myself off the railing and walking toward the center of the deck.

“He’s terrified.

And a terrified Joker is a paranoid Joker.

If we sail into Punk Hazard right now, we are walking into a meat grinder.

He’s probably recalled half his executives, Vice Admiral Vergo, and lined the shores with Caesar Clown’s poison gas.

We could win, but we’d bleed for it.”

“Then what’s the play?” Laura asked, crossing her arms, her adamantium claws sliding out a millimeter in anticipation.

“We just let him sit in his castle?”

“No,” I grinned, a dark, incredibly dangerous idea forming in my mind.

“We are going to let his castle tear itself apart.

We aren’t going to fight his army, Laura.

We are going to use his own clients to completely destroy his underworld empire.”

I turned toward the ship’s massive galley.

“Everyone inside.

We have a heist to plan.”

The kitchen of the Titan’s Glory was immaculate, dominated by the Orville Food Synthesizer I had integrated into the ship’s systems back in Paradise.

The high-tech, sleek metal console hummed with quiet, power, capable of rearranging molecular structures to perfectly replicate any meal or ingredient I programmed into it.

I stepped up to the console and began typing rapidly on the holographic interface.

“What are you making?” Bepo asked, tilting his head as he watched the screen.

“Is it meat?

I like meat.”

“Not exactly, Bepo,” I chuckled.

“I need something that looks like the most valuable substance on the planet.

Something that screams ‘miracle of science,’ but is actually completely, utterly useless.”

I punched in the final parameters a high-density protein matrix, a massive dose of Vitamin C, a complex fructose syrup, and a highly specific, harmless bioluminescent algae isolate.

I hit Execute.

The synthesizer whirred, glowing with blue light.

A few seconds later, the glass bay doors slid open, revealing a large, heavy beaker filled with a thick, violently glowing yellow liquid.

It hummed with a faint, mystical luminescence, catching the light in the room and refracting it like liquid gold.

Gammamon hopped onto the counter, his eyes wide as he stared at the glowing juice.

He leaned forward, opening his mouth.

“Ooooh!

Is it lemon flavored?

Can I drink it?”

I quickly put a hand over the beaker, gently pushing the little triceratops back.

“Not for you, buddy.

This isn’t juice.

This is bait.”

“Bait?” Law repeated, staring at the glowing yellow liquid.

“Victor, what exactly is that?”

“It’s a protein shake,” I answered deadpan.

“It has roughly the same nutritional value as a slightly bruised banana.

But to the rest of the world, we are going to market this as the Celestial Elixir.”

Robin, sitting at the galley table with a stack of blank parchment, immediately understood the angle.

A wicked, beautiful smile crossed her face.

“A panacea,” Robin deduced softly.

“A mythical medicine capable of curing any disease, regenerating lost limbs, and reversing the aging process.

A treasure that the strongest, oldest pirates in the sea would go to war over.”

“Exactly,” I nodded, carefully pouring the glowing yellow liquid into three small, thick glass vials.

“Doflamingo thrives on his reputation as ‘Joker,’ the man who can acquire anything.

If the underworld believes he has the Celestial Elixir, they will literally throw billions of Berries at him.

But if they believe he’s holding it back…

or keeping it for himself…”

“They’ll tear Dressrosa apart trying to take it,” Law finished, a look of profound, dark realization dawning on his face.

“You’re going to frame him.

You’re going to make the entire New World think Doflamingo has a miracle drug.”

“We’re going to make them think he’s auctioning it off to the highest bidder,” I corrected, pulling a stick of thick, red sealing wax from a drawer.

I lit a candle, melting the wax over the corked stoppers of the three vials.

I took a heavy, custom-made brass stamp I had forged an intricate, intertwining crest of a dragon and a wing that was mathematically impossible to duplicate by hand—and pressed it firmly into the cooling wax on all three vials.

“The seal is the most important part,” I explained, holding up one of the finished, glowing vials.

“If Doflamingo gets his hands on these just before the auction, he can’t test the liquid.

If he breaks the wax to see what’s inside, he can’t replicate the seal in time to sell it.

He’ll have to trust his eyes.

He’ll have to bluff his own clients.”

I set the three vials down on the table.

They looked like the Holy Grail.

“Robin,” I said, turning to the archaeologist.

“I need your expertise.

I need documents.

Blueprints, medical logs, structural chemical formulas.

I want them to look fifty years old, slightly burned, and stamped with the highest level of World Government clearance.”

Robin pulled a collection of fine-tipped pens and weathered ink toward her, her eyes flashing with absolute focus.

“Whose name should I forge on the research?”

“Dr.

Vegapunk,” I replied.

“Make the world believe this is his abandoned masterpiece.”

Robin nodded, her hands moving with incredible, practiced speed.

Within an hour, she had produced a stack of documents that looked so incredibly authentic, I half-expected CP0 to bust through the hull just for looking at them.

I gathered the crew around the table, laying the forged Vegapunk documents next to the three glowing vials.

“Alright, listen up,” I instructed, the atmosphere in the galley turning completely serious.

“We have exactly two months before we trigger the implosion.

The first month is going to be an information war.

We split up.

We use the Nega-Rings’ teleportation and speed to move completely unseen.”

I pointed to Law and Bepo.

“You two are hitting the underworld hubs.

Leave a trail of forged manifests.

Make the brokers whisper.”

I looked at Robin.

“Contact Jasmine.

Have the Revolutionary Army leak these ‘recovered’ documents to the black market.

Make sure everyone knows what the Celestial Elixir is supposedly capable of.”

“And what about you?” Gwen asked, her symbiote swirling thoughtfully over her shoulder.

“I’m going to leak the final piece to the one man who can’t keep his mouth shut,” I smirked.

“I’m going to make sure ‘Big News’ Morgans finds out exactly when and where Joker is holding the auction.

And I’m going to make sure he prints that it’s invite-only.”

A heavy silence fell over the kitchen as the sheer, devastating scale of the con fully set in.

We weren’t just going to scam Doflamingo.

We were going to scam the Four Emperors, the underworld, and the World Government all at the same time.

We were going to turn Dressrosa into ground zero for the greatest pirate war of the era, and we were going to do it without firing a single shot.

“Yohohoho!” Brook laughed, adjusting his tophat.

“A phantom auction for a phantom treasure!

Oh, the sheer scandal of it all!

My heart is racing…

even though I don’t have one!”

“Let’s get to work,” I said, pocketing the three vials.

“The Joker thinks he runs the board.

It’s time we flip the table.”

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